


Disputable Logic

by fangsandwires



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Other, Reader-Insert, somewhat dubious consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 14:24:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17448686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangsandwires/pseuds/fangsandwires
Summary: This is a random thought related to the Irrefutable Logic/Irredeemable Actions works already posted. It ignores the original pairing in the first fics, and explores the idea of the reader running into the DJD after becoming a Cybertronian. A reference image was posted in the tumblr linked in my profile.





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter of this is SFW, but the second part will not be. Please be responsible for your own reading and if you are not of age to read the second part, I may do a SFW version.
> 
> As I said in the description, this is kind of an AU take on the fic I've already written. There are minor spoilers, but not many. It was just an idea I had today and decided to write it down.
> 
> Now, on with the show!

Looking over a data pad, you were walking down the hall, only half paying attention to your surroundings so you wouldn’t run into anyone. 

At some point, a group of Eradicons came in the opposite direction, so you simply turned and took a few steps up the wall, magnetic field keeping you stuck to the structure until you made it to the ceiling. 

You’d done it before, so the vehicons didn’t really pay it any mind as you walked upside down on the ship’s ceiling, still focused on your reading.

At least sticking to the roof would assure you’d avoid running into another bot.

Just as you were about to cross into the main hall, a sharp prickle of static crackled up your neck and broke you out of concentration. You heard pedefalls coming up the main hall, but they didn’t sound like any you’d heard before.

Three heavy sets, one small, and a final set that you could barely hear at all approached in a group toward the joining corner you were standing just inside of. The shadow of the corner cast over your frame and dark armor, hiding most of your form save for your red optics.

You watched as a group of bots appeared past the corner, led by a masked mech with huge tank treads over his shoulders. You stayed quiet and very still, carefully looking over each of the bots until your optics landed on the one with dynamo pillars on his armor, who actually looked up at you.

You blinked.

He didn’t have eyes.

The others stopped since you two were apparently having a one-sided staring contest.

“What is it, Kaon?” The leader questioned, tone even, but somehow you could tell he was irritated at the distraction. 

“There is someone on the ceiling.” He simply replied, still looking up with you without actually seeing anything.

As ridiculous as it sounded, the others turned and your optics slid over, peering from the dark. The leader walked up without any hesitation, managing to look you almost directly in the optic just by standing on the floor.

“What are you doing up there?” He asked, intonation sending another prickle of static up your back. You tried to ignore it. You’d just been walking and stopped, that’s all.

“I’m walking on the ceiling. There’s less foot traffic up here.” You replied in complete nonchalance, looking ‘up’ when the smallest bot started circling under you and muttering something. It didn’t sound like what little Neocybex you knew, not to mention English.

You glanced back at the tank mech when he spoke again, “Most bots would be quivering under the attention of the Decepticon Justice Division. You appear unperturbed.” He sounded inquisitive.

Your helm tilted slightly in returned curiosity, wings giving a little twitch.

“Should I be disturbed then?” You heard the mech with four arms bark a laugh at the response, but the bot before you narrowed his optics behind his mask.

You offered an apologetic smile and added, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you. Excuse me.” With a little shift in direction, you walked along the ceiling and around the apparent DJD leader, stepping into the light.

The smallest mech was following under you just across the hall, seemingly entranced by your trick. One of the larger mechs grabbed him to stop from following too far as you continued across to the adjoining path.

You knew they were all watching you from behind, but you casually pulled your data pad up and tried to find the place where’d you stopped reading. That was weird, but you didn’t see what the big deal was about.

\--

Tarn and the rest of the DJD hadn’t been entirely sure if that whole conversation wasn’t the result of a hallucination induced by some sort of gas leak. 

A bot that could walk on ceilings and seemed absolutely unbothered by their presence? Ridiculous!

They were the Decepticon Justice Division! Traitors and cowards trembled before them! Their ruthless torture of hunted mechs was renowned throughout the galaxies!

So why in the pit did you not even give a single frag about it?!

The confusion was irritating, though they had to be on their most respectful behavior when meeting with Lord Megatron.

The five bots entered the bridge and all bowed graciously to the warlord before Tarn spoke, “My Lord Megatron, we’ve arrived to report on the progress of The List.” 

Megatron approached the group and took a data pad that Tarn offered, looking through the data for a moment before the DJD leader tentatively asked, “If I may be so egregious to ask, My Lord,” Megatron simply hummed, not looking up from the data. “Is there...a black seeker onboard that can walk on ceilings?”

The overlord paused in his scrolling at the question, cracking a smirk and actually giving a small chuckle. Tarn was a bit surprised at the reaction.

“You must mean Nighthawk.” Megatron clarified before going back to the tablet. “That’s certainly a new trick, though I can’t say I’m surprised.”

The others behind Tarn exchanged a quick glance as he furthered, “My Lord?”

“Nighthawk is a recent acquisition to the Decepticon ranks, and some of their skills are a bit, unorthodox.” Megatron replied, seeming satisfied with the report before handing it back to Tarn.

“Send a copy to Soundwave for the records, and he’ll return with any updates. Also,” The overlord brought a servo up to his chin in a deviously thoughtful gesture, “I suggest you speak with Nighthawk, if you’re so curious. They should be headed to the training area around this time.”

The DJD bowed again and left the bridge with a polite farewell.

They were definitely going to investigate this ‘Nighthawk’ and their apparent brass bearings.

\--

Since your training with Soundwave, you’d gotten into the habit of setting aside time every day to practice, regardless of it was required, or not. 

You were currently standing at a fair distance from a dummy, having picked up the set of throwing knives in the room to drill with. You held them out in your servo, watching as they all floated up in single-file. The line circled around over your helm and formed a semi-circle over your shoulder plating, sitting in an arc of knives over your frame.

With a quick vent to focus, you looked across the room at the dummy and sent a blade flying. It spun like a saw and landed just shy of dead center on the dummy’s head.

You sent a second knife spinning and pulled back the first as it flew, hitting a shoulder this time. A few more rounds, and you got into a rhythm, processor seamlessly calculating the timing between a throw and return. The knives were soon flying through the air in a steady stream, leaving holes in the dummy with each pass.

You were so engrossed in the target practice, that you didn’t notice the door of the training room slide open at first. It was only when you heard multiple sets of footsteps, did you withdraw the last knife and glance over as it spun back to its original position over your shoulder.

You made a face at the mechs that entered, remembering them from the hallway before.

“Can I help you?” You groused, irritated at being interrupted. Stature-wise, you were a fair bit smaller than the larger three, but it didn’t phase you much since you’d once been the size of someone’s pede.

The smallest of the group popped his helm around, muttering something else in a foreign language before he scuttled around and started poking at the blades floating around you. 

Tarn spoke up in response, “You can explain how you’re able to walk on the ceiling. And furthermore, how on Cybertron’s name you’re doing that.”

You smirked a bit, then looked at the small mech and carefully shooed him back before glancing back up at Tarn. Every one of the knives flew across the room and hit a vital point in the dummy, stuck hilt-deep in each section.

The entire group’s optics widened and looked at the dummy, then back to you in surprise.

“Electromagnetic field manipulation. If that’s all you wanted to know, I’m a bit busy.” You replied, holding up a talon and twitching a finger to make the knives all fly back and begin to circle like a carousel around your servo.

They were all just kind of staring at you like you’d grown another head that looked like Starscream.

The only one who said anything was the small mech with an excited cheer of...something.

Tarn was the first to regain his senses, pointing an accusing finger as he approached.

“Ridiculous. Electromagnetic fields aren’t used for such a thing! Tell me what you’re really doing.” He argued, soon standing before you at a menacing height.

You just looked up and sighed, the bundle of knives coming together before dropping into your servo.  
“Fine.” You shrugged in agreement as you turned to put the weapons away. You looked up at the mech, walked up, and tapped his chestplate with one talon as a little spark came from your arm.

“Try and lift your pede off the floor.” You challenged, taking a step back.

Tarn didn’t look like he believed you at all, then he attempted to move.

His leg bent slightly, but his pede was firmly planted. He tried the other leg, and got the same result. He tried two or three more times and hissed, “What sorcery is this, you insignificant-”

“I already told you.” You interrupted, taking a step forward again. With a second tap to the tank’s armor, he lifted a foot and it came up quick enough to almost unbalance him.

“Electromagnetic. Field. Manipulation. I suppose a simpler term was when Shockwave referenced ‘telekinesis’, but it only affects metal in my radius.” You explained yet again, but the tank was apparently not having it.

You saw his servo reach up like he was about to grab hold of you, so your first instinct kicked in.

Every sharp metal weapon in the training room seemed to jump up on its own, moving into a position that would impale the tank from every possible direction. Your optics were glowing intensely from the focus, and the rare swell of anger you felt at his audacity.

“Do. Not. Touch me.” You warned, a low, impressed whistle coming from one of the bots behind Tarn. The leader had frozen mid-reach, gaze shifting around at all the floating blades pointed at him. The blades adjusted quickly with an army-like snap to attention, only beginning to back away as Tarn lowered his servo.

You were still glaring up at the mech, making sure he wasn’t about to try again before the blades floated back to their resting places, your shining optics calming back to normal.

On the outside, you tried to look unnerved, but that had been too much strain too quickly for your field. It was bordering the time you did the same to Soundwave and fell into stasis afterward.

Your optics didn’t leave Tarn, but you half-heard one of the larger mechs lean toward the other and mutter, “Reminds me of Nickel.” To which the other nodded as he continued to stare.

“Now,” You began, garnering the tank’s attention before continuing, “I’ll be happy to explain it in-depth later, but I have work to do, if you don’t mind.” 

Tarn’s optics searched yours from behind his mask, but he finally seemed to relent, giving an annoyed sigh as he replied, “Very well. We will be docked with the Nemesis for another few days, but I expect a thorough explanation when you are finished.”

The threat rolled off your back like water off a duck. You just wanted the idiot to leave so you wouldn’t fall out in front of them.

You crossed your arms and your wings gave a flick as you replied, “Agreed. Now please leave.”

You watched the bots exit the training room, giving it a moment before you just sat straight down, knowing you had to take a rest before trying to train again.

What the frag was their problem?!

\--

Tarn was irate at the ridiculous song and dance that just happened. He wanted to know how the frag you were doing all that. There’s no way it was as simple as electromagnetism. Lord Megatron had said ‘unorthodox’, not magic!

Vos was excitedly babbling in the captain’s direction, gesticulating as he talked and making ‘nyoom’ sounds in respect to the way the knives had flown.

It took a few paces for Kaon to speak up, “I don’t believe you should’ve antagonized them.”

Tesarus piped up as well, “Yah, if they’re anything like Nickel, they’ll tear you a new one while telling you how stupid you are.”

Helex agreed and crossed his smaller arms in thought. “Gotta say, if it didn’t look like you were going to crush them, they might’ve calmed down.”

“All of you, shut up.” Tarn groused, keeping his voice low and controlled as usual, but still incredibly irritated.

“That little seeker is going to tell me exactly what I want to know, whether they like it or not.” He declared, stalking off ahead of the crew toward their dock.

\--

You managed to finish the rest of your training with a little extra effort, and finally left the training room. You stretched a bit as you walked down the hall toward the nearest energon dispensary. After exerting that much energy, you needed to go ahead and take your ration for the day.

Out of curiosity, you pulled up the list of Decepticon data entries, wondering if you could find anything on the bots that kept pestering you. You tried a few different search criteria until you came upon the tank’s profile first.

Tarn, huh? You glossed through the information, then moved through a few links and found the others. From what you gathered, they were basically the enforcement regime sent to execute traitors to the Decepticons. 

So that’s why they were so pushy.

Once you made it to the despenser and got a cube, you were about to take a sip when you swore you saw a flash of purple around the corner. You paused for a moment, then actually took a drink.

You turned to head down the hallway toward your habsuite, finishing the cube about halfway there and crushing the container. It was somewhat obvious that someone was following you, given the pedefalls that occasionally sounded after you turned a corner.

With a sigh, you just kept walking, finally making it to your room. Once the door opened, your expression deadpanned.


	2. Break In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the NSFW part. Like I said, please be responsible if you are not of age to read this part. I separated it for a reason.
> 
> Otherwise, read on, my friends.

Tarn was seated on your too-small-for-him berth, reading through one of your data pads like he belonged there.

“Why are you in my room.” You demanded flatly, glaring at the DJD leader. He didn’t even look up from the data pad as he replied, “I had reasonable doubt to believe you would avoid your explanation, therefore, here I am.” 

You raised a servo and the data pad flew out of Tarn’s servo and into yours. “If you’re going to be so adamant about it, at least don’t go through my things.” You complained, setting the pad aside. Since Tarn’s big aft was taking up your berth, you moved to sit in a nearby chair, crossing your arms.

“So what are you expecting me to explain?” You asked, already looking bored. “I told you the explanation, but you refuse to believe it.”

Tarn propped one of his legs up on the edge of the furniture, resting his arm on his knee before he replied, “Start from the beginning. When did you discover the skill, and how did you use it?”

You rolled your optics and sighed. Guess the ferret was getting let out of the bag, again.

“First off, you’re still not going to believe me, but I used to be a human. An organic.” You explained, just waiting for the disbelief.

“Impossible.”

There it was.

“Feel free to verify anything with Shockwave, but I can guarantee he’ll tell you the same thing.” You replied, shifting a bit in your seat. Tarn seemed willing to listen, so you continued.

You went through the story from the beginning, about betraying the Autobots, and the tracker. Then, how the nanites affected your body and how you ended up getting a new frame to become more useful. You even mentioned how the polarity change from the nanites had morphed into the field manipulation you could use now.

The DJD captain sat through the entire explanation, simply watching you as you spoke in an informative tone. You finished with, “Now, if you don’t believe me, kindly go bother Shockwave instead. I don’t know what else you’re expecting, but that’s what happened.”

Tarn gave you a once-over, seeming to think about it all, before he clarified, “So a weak, useless organic, has become a Decepticon worthy of Lord Megatron’s adulation…” He gave a short laugh that sent a spark flying up your backstrut.

“It sounds absolutely ridiculous, yet…” You saw his optics shift in a second pass over your frame. “Few have been able to outright stand against me, much less without even a tremor of hesitation.”

That almost sounded...like he liked that?

You had to process the statement for a second, unsure if you were reading him right.

With a serious look, you leaned over and rested your elbows on your knees, optics slightly shadowed by your helm as you replied, “I read your file, along with the others. I know who you are, but I don’t give two frags about status if you’re going to try and lay a hand on me without permission.”

Tarn narrowed his optics in what you assumed was amusement, giving a hum in response. Another tickle of sensation went through your frame and you glared.

“If you keep doing that, I will magnetize your vocals shut.”

Yes, that was a half-serious threat, but it just made the captain chuckle. 

“Such a spitfire you are.” He said, making it sound like praise. Your wings gave a twitch at another flourish of sensation through your frame. The knowledge of what he was capable of made you slightly nervous, but you got the sense he wasn’t going to try and kill you. Yet.

Just to be contrary, you sassed, “What, suddenly interested?”

“Profoundly.” He replied immediately, the tone laced with a slight purr.

It wasn’t meant to be serious, but Tarn’s reply completely took you off guard. This was a new area to you, at least, considering Cybertronian anatomy. All you’d been doing was practicing your skill and training. It never occurred to you that anything would lean toward that.

The realization made your wings flutter unconsciously, an obvious tell that Tarn apparently picked up on.

“Judging from your reaction...you haven’t quite broken in that new frame of yours, have you?” His question finally got you to glance away, which only affirmed his suspicion.

“That’s none of your business.” You muttered, still not looking at him. Tarn started humming a tune, which struck you as odd, until you started feeling little shocks of sensation radiating from your spark.

You tried to remain still, but the more sound he made, the stronger the waves became. It didn’t take long for you to barely manage sitting up in the chair, rasping out, “Stop it.”

At some point, Tarn had stood and ended up standing before you, looking down at your quivering frame in the chair.

The next words out of his mouth sent a bolt of electricity through your frame, “Perhaps we should perform a new experiment, Nighthawk.” 

The final syllable of your designation drew a cry from your vocalizer and felt like it burst a gate of lightning in your body. The sensation was so much stronger than you remembered from being human, like a power surge breaking through and just lighting everything in your body on fire.

You almost fell out of the chair, but Tarn caught your frame and easily lifted you once the aftershocks died down, moving you over to the berth instead. The low chuckle he gave just reverberated with the lingering charge, making you quietly gasp.

Your fans were incredibly loud in your audials, but you weren’t sure if it was actually that deafening or not. It took a second, but you realized there was a very profound sense of wetness near one of your lower panels.

Tarn leaned over you and nuzzled his mask against your neck cabling, a large servo reaching down to trace the modesty paneling between your legs.

“My, how easy that was...was it your first overload?” He murmured against your audial, the stroking pleasure against your spark staring to build again.

You barely managed a struggling ‘yes’ as the DJD leader traced around your panel again, a digit dipping between your hip seam and brush a few wires. You couldn’t help but arch into the touches from how sensitive you frame already was, giving a begrudging groan.

Tarn’s mask pressed against your audial as he purred, “Open your paneling and I can give you something better.”

You could barely focus on the words he was saying, much less search for a command to open it. Luckily, your body knew exactly what he meant and the panel transformed away, allowing the cool air to reach a previously untouched part of your frame.

He gave a hum of approval and his digits carefully teased the outside folds of your valve. Tarn’s thumb moved up and rubbed circles around the glowing outer node, making you moan and lean your helm back.

Tarn caged your frame against the berth, relentlessly whispering into your audial as he agonizingly toyed with your node until you cried out in a second overload. Your claws had already ripped seams in the bedding, but he didn’t stop until the pleasure ebbed away to a manageable level.

You absently heard a click somewhere, and shifted to look up at the captain. You felt something brush against your inner thigh paneling and glanced down his frame, seeing an intimidating-looking spike between his legs. 

In a last ditch effort on behalf of your processor, you taunted weakly with a half-cocked smirk, “Get on with it, then.”

Tarn seemed infinitely entertained with your response, positioning himself on one servo next to your shoulder as he lined up against your valve.

“Antagonistic little thing, aren’t you…” He growled, grabbing your hip plating as he pushed forward. You weren’t expecting the burning stretch, your valve fluttering around his spike as it steadily slipped inside. The abundance of lubricant made it easier, but it was still a tight fit.

It took a moment or two, but Tarn was soon fully seated inside. He gave a few shallow thrusts before drawing back a bit more each time, working his way up to full strokes in and out. Your legs reactively wrapped around his hips, servo grabbing his arm as he fragged you senseless.

Tarn leaned in and growled against your neck cabling, “Nn, such a perfect fit and immaculate frame…” He shifted slightly to balance on his knees, suddenly withdrawing before he flipped your frame over and added, “Let’s see how sturdy it is.” 

He lined up and thrust back in from behind, making you arch and cry out against the berth. Tarn’s rhythm was harsh and unrelenting. Your wings splayed out fully in pleasure, which gave him ample opportunity to stroke and tug at the plating as he drove into your valve.

You didn’t last long. The combination of Tarn’s spike, the touches, and his growls of pleasure drove you to a third overload, which you barely managed to stay online for. Your final cry was almost all static, vocals strained as your valve clenched rhythmically around the spike inside you.

Tarn overloaded soon after with a low groan, continuing to thrust until the charge finally skittered away as it jumped between both your frames. You felt like your brain was completely fried at the moment, idly feeling Tarn pull away and eventually let your hips go.

You couldn’t really do anything besides flop down where you were, frame giving heat warnings as your fans spun as high as they would go. It took a couple minutes, but eventually, you managed to roll over to your side and see Tarn leaned against the wall while sitting behind you.

The DJD captain didn’t look as bad as you probably did, but he seemed satisfied. You struggled to sit up, but managed to move enough to sit up against the wall next to him, despite your fans still going a mile a minute.

Tarn side-eyed you under his mask, which you didn’t really notice until he spoke.

“I’m surprised you can still move.” He sounded amused at the idea, but you just gave a stupid smile and replied, “Give me about ten minutes.”


End file.
